Peace, Love, Hiei
by JaganshiKenshin
Summary: Poor Kurama---overworked, overloaded, and the annoying new neighbors aren't quite what they seem. Can our favorite fox-boy survive a crucial test of his sheer grit?
1. Peace, Love, Hiei: C1

Disclaimer: Kenshin does not own the Yuu Yuu Hakusho characters (they are the property of Togashi Yoshihiro et al), and does not make any money from said characters. Don't sue.

What Kenshin does own, however, are all the original charactersin this work. Any attempt to "borrow" these characters will be met with the katana, or worse.

The events in _Idiot Beloved_ take place shortly after the Dark Tournament; _Firebird Sweet_ directly follows that timeline; it's suggested you read them in order so you don't miss out on character development and certain crucial events.

Title: Peace, Love, Hiei

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor

Rating: T

Summary: Uh-oh. The new neighbors are here, and they've got an agenda.

A/N: Sometimes, life tosses you a present. I intended to continue updating either _Operation Rosary_ or _Death by Hiei_, but instead, I discovered another comical misadventure for Kurama and Hiei, set against the backdrop of _IB/FS_. Having missed Kurama quite a bit during the writing of _Codename Moron_, I give him his turn at bat with this first-person four-parter. Accompanying character sketches are up on my LiveJournal homepagey. Thanks. Please review!

"Hiei--you can't just kill hippies at random!"

Peace, Love, Hiei (C1: "Is That MEAT I Smell?")

by

Kenshin

"What would you like in your flower bed?" I asked Shay-san, opening my hand to reveal seeds of morning glory, sweet alyssum, zinnia--all the common flowers she likes, along with rootlets of azalea, daylily, and--just to be cute about it--foxglove.

Biting her thumb, Shayla Kidd gazed at the array like a kid in a candy store, her gray eyes liquid with longing.

Though she wore cheerful marigold tones that emphasized her fire-streaked hair, her gifted voice conveyed sorrow, loss, regret--and a touch of petulance. "None of the above?"

I heard Hiei rummaging around the back of the house. The racket he made was considerable, and I wondered whether that had anything to do with her mood.

"You don't have to choose," I assured her. "I can design a bed incorporating all of them."

"Kurama," she sighed. "If only you could."

"I see no reason to stand here and allow you to insult my abilities as a plant master."

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"What then?"

"Look." The living room's windows were open, but newly-installed green sheers covered them. It seemed odd. It was a Saturday morning to write home about, with fluffy clouds skating a cerulean sky and a cool fresh breeze making the sheers billow. "Broad daylight," Shay-san elaborated. "Someone's bound to notice if you poke in a handful of morning glory seeds and two minutes later they're mature plants in full bloom."

"Someone in the shape of Mrs. Itoya," I surmised. There is a Mrs. Itoya in every neighborhood, I suppose, and this one was more interactive than most.

For the two years Hiei and Shay-san had lived here, the old lady had made a hobby of studying Hiei's habits, mounting extensive and highly personal inquiries whenever Hiei dragged himself home at some ungodly hour, due to saving Tokyo once again from the latest version of Gojira. "Suppose I grow your garden in the dead of night?"

A frown knitted Shay-san's upswept brows. "Maybe in pots. And way in the back yard."

Something had caused this near-paranoia on her part. Maybe the absence of Michael and Cecilia, now lively four-year-olds, had driven her round the bend. "Why such secrecy?"

Beckoning me to the window, she flicked the curtains aside. "Notice anything about Mrs. Itoya's house?"

"Of course. It lacks her nose, pasted to the front window." Like other homes on this quiet residential street, Mrs. Itoya's was a Western-style wooden frame building, partly hidden behind tall concrete barriers that fronted the street in order to preserve privacy. In fact, Hiei and Shay-san's house was the only dwelling not to possess such a barrier, having been built by an Englishman with a passion for white picket fencing.

"Mrs. Itoya went to live with her grandson and his family. New people just moved in."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"And I don't know who they are."

"Maybe it will stay that way."

She let the curtain fall back and fixed me with a cool stare. "Don't tell me a big strong fella like you is fwaidy-scared of a little digging?"

"Haven't you heard of 'Work smarter, not harder?'"

"Never."

"And to think of my poor seeds languishing for want of a home--"

"And to think that every time you use your _ki,_ you emit a signal, however small, for someone to trace. Like turning on a flashlight in a darkened room." She shrugged. "Anyway, Hiei has to scrub off a certain amount of physical energy every day or he gets really--" Her eyes went a bit bulgy. "_Unpleasant_ to live with."

I knew how Hiei could get.

Although my friend had adapted to the human world far better than anyone could have predicted, he was still _youkai_, with all the accompanying physical toughness and peculiarities. And for a long time, there had been no activity on the demon front, and no call for his services.

"He's out back," she continued, "fetching the garden tools."

I stared in genuine shock. "Let me get this clear. You don't mean to say you're making Hiei go to a nursery to buy plants? And then dig holes to put them in?"

"Not holes. A bed." She ambled toward the kitchen. "And I'm not 'making' him do anything. He volunteered."

"I suppose he also 'volunteered' me," I called after her.

"Only if you want dinner," she shot back.

"What are you cooking?" I pleaded.

"Something extremely labor-intensive," she assured me.

At this time, I was, at the urging of my mentor Dr. Smith, pursuing a double load consisting of both college courses and a Physician's Assistant certification, in addition to working for Smith part-time. Due to my long and irregular hours, I was living in a cramped apartment close to his offices. My free time was extremely limited, but what I did have of it I liked to split between Kaasan and these two.

However, this week, my mother and Hatanaka-san were vacationing at the seashore, and had brought the twins Michael and CeeCee along.

Kuwabara-kun, with his raw strength, is a frequent guest at Hiei and Shay-san's 'workfare' program, as is Yuusuke, with his indefatigable energy--but today I had them all to myself. That meant extra helpings.

I shook my plants-to-be back into a glassine envelope and zipped it shut. It seemed a shame to waste them. Maybe I would sneak back in the dead of night and surprise her.

Or maybe--

With Shay-san well out of sight, I grabbed a small ceramic planter that lay on a side table and pinched out the dead stick that had formerly been an African Violet. I don't want to say that Shay-san has a black thumb. You didn't hear it from me.

I grabbed a few chive roots from my stock and hurriedly shoved them into the still-moist dirt, thinking something along the lines of, _Chives go well with potato salad_.

Then I laid hands on the soil and sent _ki_ flowing down into the roots. In moments, a miniature forest of green spears bristled forth. "So there," I muttered.

Sometimes when my sister-become and I get together, we both turn into nine-year-olds. It can be refreshing.

"That garden's not going to dig itself."

I whirled.

Dressed in sawed-off gray sweats that had seen better days, Hiei had come upon me quite soundlessly from the back of the house--despite what appeared to be an entire farm's worth of heavy equipment in his sinewed arms. His hair resembled a black and white cyclone just barely come to rest, and his crimson eyes were alight with amusement. Hiei glanced at his burden of shovels and hoes and spray cans, most of which he palmed off on me. "You looked lonely without them," he said.

"You don't seriously mean to buy plants, do you?" I asked in hushed tones as we made our clanking way to the front yard. "I brought a gardenful of seeds."

He snorted, vigorously shaking a spray can, regarding me as though he was a graffiti artist with an itch to express himself and I was a convenient wall.

"Okay, okay, okay," I said, holding up my hands in mock-surrender. Then I glanced up at the sky. About ten minutes to noon, and the June days were long. We had to spend the time somehow.

So, with the heavy scent of freshly-spaded earth to accompany us, Hiei and I ended up displaying the sort of love for one another that, between men, expresses itself in detailed attacks on one's ancestry, character, intelligence, and virility.

In between volleys, Hiei aimed a spray can of white paint at the ground, and outlined the curving boundary of the flower bed. When he wasn't painting, he was insulting me, and I egged him on with ever-more-elaborate attacks of my own.

I had paused in stunned, open-mouthed admiration after a particularly nasty lob to center court concerning all four strata of insult, when a dry little voice behind us said, "You're destroying the environment."

Hiei's thumb twitched on the spray tab. Without turning, he said, as glacial as any Kourime, "In what way?"

"You're killing the ozone layer with those fluorocarbons."

"Chlorofluorocarbons," I corrected automatically, and then a feeling like being dipped in warm honey suffused me as Hiei cranked his head around inch by inch to face the interloper. I had come expecting to work and be fed, and now there was a free floor show in the offing.

Our star was a tallish, willowy girl of about eighteen, a year or so younger than me and an inch or so shorter. She was dressed in a long brown skirt, heavy ugly sandals, and a faded red tank top.

The newcomer gave off an aroma of someone who had never been acquainted with the modern wonders known as soap and water. A dirty string attached to a woven Greek bag was slung across her scrawny chest. However, her bone structure hinted at a body not naturally meant to be so thin, but one which was the result of never having anything pleasant to eat.

To call her mud-colored hair unkempt would do a disservice to the unkempt of the world. I wondered, in horrified fascination, what sort of insects might call that personal jungle home. But her ears stuck out almost at right angles, which I found absurdly appealing, and her blue eyes, behind their oval glasses, were lively and direct.

I could tell by her accent that she was an American--and only Americans can be quite so eccentric.

Yet despite all that, she exuded (quite apart from her very own personal miasma) an attractive, youthful enthusiasm.

Like a bird dog, she raised her head and sniffed. I wondered whether she had come to the realization that the 20th century offered such aforementioned marvels, and she needed to run out and buy some. But she merely turned that penetrating gaze on us and said, in deeply offended tones, "Is that MEAT I smell?"

I tested the air myself, and let out a sigh of pure bliss. "Not meat," I corrected. "Chicken."

"With a beer can up its butt," elaborated Hiei.

The girl gaped at us as though we had escaped from a lunatic asylum.

Meanwhile, fragrant barbecue smoke drifted toward us from the back yard, surrounding the three of us in a mouth-watering haze. And, riding on that haze like an apparition of mercy, came the architect of the feast, Shay-san.

Shay-san stopped, tilting her head up at the girl.

From my vantage point they appeared to be of a different species altogether; even in a pair of worn yellow clamdiggers and green oven mitts, Shay-san exuded a sort of well-groomed female glamour that was apparently quite foreign to her taller counterpart. Plus, she bathed.

"Dinner in about an hour," Shay-san announced. "Would you care to join us, Miss...?"

The girl scratched her hair, revealing underarms that had never known either razor or soap. "Rainbow Chakra Freedom."

Shay-san was a lot more hospitable than I would have been. "How about it, Miss Rainbow Chakra Freedom?" she urged.

Miss Rainbow Chakra Freedom's face gave a little spasm of conflicting emotion; immediately I reassessed her.

On hearing the invitation, a delighted smile had flashed across her lips--and just as quickly, was masked by a frown as she flicked her gaze to the side.

I am not psychic; Kuwabara-kun and Shay-san's sixth sense both far outweigh mine. But I caught a glimpse, very clear, of a little girl surrounded by a laughing mother and father and brothers, herself giggling.

She had since been schooled to second-guess her own normal reactions. I wondered whether Hiei and Shay-san had noted this.

"Meat destroys the rain forest," Miss Chakra stated.

"This isn't meat." Shay-san gave her a warm pink grin. "It's chicken."

"With a beer can up its butt," repeated Hiei.

"And it never heard of the rain forest," I added.

Miss Chakra sighed. Reaching into her bag, she withdrew a folded piece of paper, which she handed to Hiei. "I can see that I have my work cut out for me," she said, then turned and clumped back to the house across the street.

"Well," I said into the ensuing silence. "I believe we've just met your new neighbor."

In response, Hiei turned the paper to ash, then let the breeze sift it from his fingers.

"Ash destroys the rain forest," said Shay-san.

I turned to her. "Are you making potato salad, too?" I pleaded.

"Freaking hippie," growled Hiei.

"Hiei," admonished Shay-san, removing her oven mitts to waggle one underneath his nose, "you can't kill hippies."

"I have a license to kill," he replied darkly.

"With onion and green pepper and a sprinkle of paprika on top?" I prodded.

She flared at me. "Don't think I haven't found those chives, Mister!" Then she turned it on Hiei. "And you don't have a license to kill hippies who haven't threatened your family!"

"No matter how much fun it might be?" Hiei said.

"And cole slaw," Shay-san assured me, switching gears with dizzying speed.

I sighed. "Truly are you a goddess of the grill."

"With a dead hippie for dessert," said Hiei.

"I'm game," I said.

(To be continued: Where have all the flowers gone?)

-30-


	2. Peace, Love C2: Ambrosia Interrupted

Please see Disclaimer in Chapter One

The events in _Idiot Beloved_ take place shortly after the Dark Tournament; _Firebird Sweet_ directly follows that timeline. I strongly suggest you read those fics in order, THEN take a look at the sidefics!

Title: Peace, Love, Hiei, C2: Ambrosia, Interrupted

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor

Rating: T

Summary: What begins as a simple cookout turns into a social fiasco.

A/N: As always, thanks for reading this, and I appreciate your reviews! Character sketches up on my LJ homepagey.

"Don't you even CARE about the rain forest?"

Peace, Love Hiei (C2: Ambrosia, Interrupted)

by

Kenshin

One hour after the awkward introduction to Hiei's new neighbor, I was gratefully forking down cole slaw, potato salad, and the delicious roasted flesh of a dead, rain-forest-destroying bird, all washed down with iced green tea.

We sat in the neat little yard at an old but still sturdy picnic table Shay-san had rescued from someone's trash. The yard itself was surrounded by tall picket fencing that somewhat shielded it from the neighboring houses. An arched picket gateway stood to the right, opening onto the narrow side yard.

The three of us sat enjoying the afternoon breeze, on which ebbed and flowed a soothing symphony of birdsong. The rest of the air was heavy and fragrant with the fruits of barbecue.

Whenever I was fortunate enough to show up on barbecue day, I was treated to a succession of American-style char-grilled burgers, slow-smoked pork ribs, and, inevitably, some form of chicken.

Beer can chicken is my favorite. The bird's skin crisps to an almost unbearable succulence, and actually crackles when you bite into it, due to its impalement on a half-empty can of Sapporo's finest, which also ensures the flesh remains tender and juicy. Accompanying the chicken is always a creamy potato salad or tangy cole slaw, or sometimes, like today's bounty, both.

I suppose that's worth a few hours of shoveling dirt.

Hiei sat facing the house, devouring his chicken, cracking the bones in his strong white teeth and sucking out the marrow. Shay-san had her back to the fence, nibbling delicately on a wing. I sat opposite her, with the best view of the grill.

"You're spoiling me," I murmured to Shay-san around a mouthful of chicken breast and crunchy skin.

"I'm subverting you," she corrected.

"To American food?" I blinked in puzzlement.

"To the fact that work always precedes food," interjected Hiei. "She's training you. Like Pavlov's dog."

"Mnf. As long as you include some ambrosia for dessert, I don't mind." I cleared my palate with a long swallow of icy green tea. "Much."

"You're getting off easy," griped Hiei.

We were having a wonderful time. Much too good to last.

"Crap," said Hiei, turning a crimson glare toward the open gate. I lifted my head to follow his gaze.

"Crap," echoed Shay-san, under her breath. "Well. I did invite her."

"You invited _her_," Hiei pointed out. "Not _them_."

Shay-san shrugged. The birds fell silent.

Miss Rainbow Chakra Freedom clumped across the grass in her ugly sandals. At her side slunk a tall, lanky male who seemed oddly familiar, though I did not recognize him. His long, grizzled hair was partially tamed by a beaded headband, which I was certain did not conceal a Jagan such as Hiei's. He had an unhealthy-looking pallor, and seemed to suck all the oxygen from the yard by the mere act of standing still.

It made me want to crawl indoors for a nap.

His round eyeglasses featured heavily tinted lenses, perhaps to mask his drug-addled gaze. His ensemble was completed by a pink paisley shirt, dirty buckskin pants with fringe running down the outside of each leg, and a powerful odor of unwashed skin.

The smell wasn't quite thick enough to create a gag reflex, but you might still be able to build a house on it. Maybe his towering magnitude of personal miasma was the reason the girl did not notice her own.

The male being no one you would want to look at for long, I studied the girl as I struggled to shake off my torpor.

A normal person would be looking around in curiosity at the yard, but Miss Rainbow Chakra Freedom kept her gaze riveted to the food.

"We're being invaded by hippies," hissed Hiei.

The male hippie made no introductions, and neither did Miss Chakra. That was fine with me.

"Won't you sit down," offered Shay-san, between the clenched teeth of a frozen smile.

Miss Chakra sniffed in derision. "We don't eat meat."

"This isn't meat," I corrected. "It's chicken."

"With a beer can up its butt," enthused Hiei.

Buckskin Boy stood in malodorous silence. It was impossible to tell, given those tinted lenses, whether he was contemplating us, or his own navel.

"How about you, Mr...?" Shay-san trailed off, lifting a graceful hand. The Tumbleweed Kid remained silent. Not so his companion.

"The environment is the most important issue facing the planet," stated Miss Chakra, reaching into her bag.

"I thought it was rogue demons," muttered Hiei, so softly only I could hear. While I stifled laughter, the girl placed a sheaf of pamphlets on the picnic table.

"Won't you have some potato salad, or perhaps some cole slaw?" persisted Shay-san. The girl brightened. I am confident that Shay-san's side dishes were the best-smelling things Miss Chakra had encountered in quite some time.

"But they're made with mayonnaise," I said, turning a _who-me_ gaze to Shay-san as she kicked me under the table. "Mayonnaise contains egg. Egg production exploits the chicken underclass."

The girl stepped back, the corners of her mouth drawing down. "I--I'd better not," she concluded.

Then, she cast a furtive glance at Buckskin Bob and I narrowed my eyes, watching. Was this the person who'd taught her to second-guess her every move?

"What about--" Biting on her lower lip, Miss Chakra pointed hesitantly to a gleaming yellow serving dish filled to bursting with ambrosia. Shay-san's version of this southern classic consists of orange segments and pineapple chunks, maraschino cherries, miniature marshmallows, and pecans, all bound in a sour cream dressing, with coconut flakes on top.

"Full of toxic chemicals," Hiei said.

"Oh, it is not." Shay-san was already scooping out a portion into a little plate and handing it to the girl. "Nothing more toxic than fluffy little marshmallows."

The female hippie grasped the plate of ambrosia, took a hesitant spoonful. A delighted grin spread across her features, infusing them with a child's eager charm, transforming her from determinedly unwashed boho into something quite touching.

Perhaps the ambrosia had reminded her of the person she used to be.

But then Buckskin Bob jerked his head in her direction. She wilted under his gaze, reluctantly put the partly-eaten dessert back on the picnic table.

I do so hate waste.

Meanwhile, Shay-san and Hiei leafed through the pamphlets, which had such titles as _Poison In Our Shampoo_, _Meat Is Murder_, and _Every Time You Drive Your Car, The Rain Forest Cries_.

I'd seen such pamphlets before. Poorly-researched and often fraudulent appeals to raw emotion aside...

I am as big a fan of the rain forest as anyone. Much of my arsenal originates from there. Still.

These gung-ho types--as opposed to, perhaps, genuine conservationists, see only one side of 'nature,' and that through rose-tinted lens. Gleaming parks, towering mountain peaks, and sparkling seashore may indeed be beautiful, but nature also creates tsunami, forest fires, and typhoons.

Not to mention a wide variety of venomous snakes, poisonous plants, biting insects, and large carnivores that would rather consume you than faster, more challenging prey.

Anyone who has spent a significant portion of his life sleeping in the trees--oh, say, Hiei--sees a different story. He is aware that nature is cruel, capricious and adamant, and very often the enemy. Get careless, and die at her hands.

This girl simply had fervor. She could have just as easily been handing out 'Repent-the-end-is-nigh' tracts.

Hiei rose. He scooped the pamphlets into one hand, then strolled to the rear of the yard where there was a metal garbage can in which he burns trash. He kept his back to us so that for all the neighbors knew, he had used a match to ignite the fire. I knew better.

When Hiei was certain he had everyone's attention, he loosed a surprisingly sweet smile, then dropped the pamphlets into the blaze one by one.

Miss Chakra cried out in dismay. "Don't you even care about the environment?"

"No."

"But you're adding to our air pollution," she insisted, glancing toward Buffalo Bill before squinting at the minute puff of smoke that rose from the can.

Hiei folded his arms." Don't you even care that it's arrogant to believe paltry humanity, with its pathetic, sometimes misguided interventions, can influence the climate of this great big planet one way or another?"

The girl's smooth brow puckered. But before she could launch any counter-measures, her companion slid up behind her, silent and boneless and menacing. "I really think you should--" she began. Her buckskin shadow didn't exactly _shove_ her, but he came awfully close, and Miss Chakra hastily closed her mouth.

Such actions do not sit kindly with me.

"O-okay, then ... uhm, er, peace." Casting a last, wistful glance at her half-eaten ambrosia, Miss Chakra accompanied the male hippie out of the yard and back to their cave.

The birds were free to sing once again.

"That went well," Shay-san commented, accompanied by a roll of her eyes.

"Freaking hippies," muttered Hiei, his fiery gaze following the duo, as if to make sure we really had seen the last of them.

"I thought hippies were extinct," I murmured, watching the picket gate for signs of their return.

"They're like cockroaches," said Hiei. "They'll never die out."

"Maybe they're just faux hippies." Shay-san started to gather up the leftovers. "In it for the fashion statement."

"Come on, woman!" Hiei snatched back a last chicken bone, bit it in half. "Let me kill them. It would be just like burning those unwanted pamphlets."

"Hiei!" Shay-san fixed him with a basilisk stare. "You can NOT kill unarmed neighbors who have in no way threatened you, your family, or humanity in general, even if they are hippies."

"You never let me have any fun," Hiei grumbled, then turned to me, all sullen indignation. "She never lets me have any fun."

"In this case, I happen to agree with Shay-san," I murmured, blinking away the last vestiges of that peculiar lassitude. Scooping up a healthy portion of ambrosia for myself, I added, "You can't simply go around killing people who annoy you, no matter how much you want to."

With a tremendous show of ill grace, Hiei subsided, and I took a second helping of ambrosia while Shay-san went inside to make coffee.

We finished the ambrosia _al fresco_, accompanied by deep mugs of steaming, milk-laced coffee, and then I went inside to assist my friends with the clean-up.

It is really no effort to rinse off a few dishes and stick them into a drainer, then receive a foil-wrapped packet of delicious leftovers that said friends (the female half of them, at any rate) press into your eager hands.

If only all life were that simple.

(To be continued: Midnight is the witching hour!)

-30-


	3. P,L, H C3: Midnight In The Garden

Please read Disclaimer in Chapter One.

The events in _Idiot Beloved_ take place shortly after the Dark Tournament; _Firebird Sweet_ directly follows that timeline. I strongly suggest you read those fics in order, THEN take a look at the sidefics!

Title: Peace, Love, Hiei C3: Midnight In The Garden of Good And Evil

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor

Rating: T

Summary: A mission at midnight puts Kurama in jeopardy.

A/N: As always, thanks for reading this, and please review!

"I thought you looked familiar!"

Peace, Love, Hiei (C3: Midnight In The Garden Of Good And Evil)

by

Kenshin

I returned to Hiei's house at midnight on a covert mission. Miss Rainbow Chakra Freedom had already wasted half a serving of perfectly delectable ambrosia; no sense in me wasting my plants. As it was dark, no one was likely to see me at work--or sense me either. The small amount of _ki_ I would expend was negligent and hardly to be detected, unless you were searching for it.

And while I knew Shay-san might give me both barrels for accomplishing what she had forbidden, I also knew her innate love of beauty, not to mention longing for flowers, would eventually win out.

Besides, I wanted to repay her hospitality with something a bit more lasting than manual labor.

It was the work of a few minutes to poke a variety of seeds, corms, and roots into the flower bed Hiei and I had prepared, and the pattern had density; there is nothing sadder than a row of tulips sticking out at intervals like lollipops. If you're going to do something, do it lavishly.

My level of spirit energy being well-fed by beer can chicken, potato salad, and ambrosia, I could tackle 'lavish.'

Kneeling before the bed, I gathered my _ki_, then slammed both hands into the dirt, releasing life energy into my plants.

They responded as they were meant to, for within each seed lies its own destiny. The welcome sight of bursting green shoots greeted my slightly unfocused gaze.

I stopped when the plants had grown to seedling height, so that they might be taken for nursery transplants. I did relent to grow a fully mature section of parrot tulips, whose frilled profusion of pink, green, gold and mahogany tones would be flanking the front steps to greet Shay-san in the morning. I could just imagine her astounded, delighted look. For good measure I added an Elodie lily, of delicate pink hue and profuse, many-fingered blooms.

I knelt admiring my handiwork for a few minutes.

"What are you doing?" said that familiar, dry little voice.

Scrambling to my feet, I spun to face the intruder, wiping my hands on my jeans, thereby rendering myself almost as dirty as any garden-variety hippie.

Miss Chakra herself stood beaming at me, with an open curiosity she had earlier lacked. The breeze had stilled. Her hair hung lank about her shoulders, and as before, her jug-handle ears made a bold, if comical, statement.

"Respecting nature," I reassured her. "You're keen on that, are you not?"

Clapping her hands, Miss Chakra gave a triumphant squeal, making her seem about ten. "I knew I'd be a good influence!"

She was still wearing that faded top and skirt. Maybe she kept late hours, or maybe that was her only outfit. Or maybe she slept in them.

"You're awfully nice," she sighed, sidling up to me, winding both undernourished arms around my right biceps. "Not like that horrible little fellow who hates the environment."

"No comment," I murmured, glancing uneasily back at the house. Hiei is a very light sleeper possessed of excellent hearing.

Just now, my feelings toward this waif were more parental than romantic--and I wasn't even a parent. I regarded the house across the street. Nothing special about it. It was just a house at night. No reason for my dry throat.

But as Miss Chakra displayed no inclination to return my arm, I began gently herding her across the street. "It's late. How about we get you home?"

Her only reply was a quick squeeze. Hoping she had not misinterpreted my motives, I made my way toward the hippies' front door. The house looked a bit down-at-heels, but then again I had never before visited the premises and did not know in what condition Mrs. Itoya, its former occupant, had left it.

As deftly as possible with one arm, I fumbled for the doorknob, opened the door, and eased my way inside. The girl still clung to me.

The house was dark inside as well.

A strange sort of lassitude descended, as if the house's very dilapidation could effect those within it.

I could hear Miss Chakra breathing.

When my eyes adjusted to the lack of light I saw that this interior was smaller than Hiei's, lacking the long and somewhat grand length of hallway. It did share the same general floor plan, so that just to the left of the _genkan_, a flight of stairs led to the second floor.

Like Hiei's house, this, too, had the living room on the right, opening into the hall, and at the end of the hall an open arched doorway probably led to either a kitchen or dining room.

_We're not alone!_

It was the body odor that warned me; I turned once again to the living room--where 'Kit Carson' awaited us, sitting on an overturned packing crate against the far wall.

In the dark, he still wore his sunglasses. His legs were crossed at the knee; both hands covered his mouth and were clasped as if in prayer, although it was a safe bet not.

The living room was furnished in Early Derelict, with packing crates where conventional seating should be. Against the adjacent wall on which the dining room pass-though opened, sagged a single musty-smelling armchair. I wondered whether the pair had bothered to have the power turned on, or were too concerned about saving the planet from the evils of electricity.

I had no idea of the nature of Miss Chakra's relationship to Buffalo Bill. Lover, mentor, Svengali? For all I knew, he could merely be her landlord.

Still. I disengaged Miss Chakra from my arm and stepped protectively in front of her.

"Imaimashii?" Miss Chakra's voice sounded thin.

_Imaimashii_. Was that his name? Something distant tugged at my thoughts. Something important. His name. His face.

The male hippie spoke for the first time, from behind his clasped hands. "Way to go, girl." He had an odd voice, harsh and deep, yet curiously non-resonant. "You got him. This pad's as good a scene as any."

"Wh-what are you talking about?" she stuttered.

I became uncomfortably aware of the house's silent dark, its air of dirt and disuse, and the fact that my classes would not resume until Monday, and that Kaasan was away on vacation, and that none of my friends knew my whereabouts.

The male hippie reached down and snapped on a lamp on the floor next to his packing crate, washing the immediate area with a wan yellowish glow. Removing both hands from his mouth, he slid off his sunglasses, carefully tucking them into the pocket of his pink paisley shirt.

He looked up at me, revealing his eyes. They were red. But unlike Hiei's quite normal-appearing eyes, his were scarlet, rim-to-rim, lacking pupil, white and iris altogether.

Then, ceremoniously, dramatically, and with great self-satisfaction, he lifted the headband from his brow.

The headband did not conceal a Jagan. It concealed a mouth.

The girl squeaked, a bodiless, choked-off sound.

The round pink lipless mouth, more like that of a lamprey's than a human's, was crammed with jagged teeth that glittered even in the faint lamplight.

No wonder his voice lacked resonance, having to travel all the way to his forehead like that.

"Wh-what's happening?" The girl's teeth chattered, making a castanet background to her query. I shook my head.

I am not Hiei.

I do not possess Hiei's eidetic memory, that blessing or curse which literally renders him unable to forget a single incident since before his birth--a memory that includes the icy command of the Kourime matriarch to destroy him.

My memory is good but not infallible, and overloaded with study and work. There is also the thousand years of Youko Kurama's memory to consider, entwined with those of Minamino Shuuichi like ivy round an oak.

So I could be somewhat excused for failing to immediately recognize the person on the packing crate.

The resemblance was not exact--no identical twin, this--but was there nevertheless, in the bony shape of his face, the length of his hair, the grayish tint of his skin (though probably altered by cosmetics) and the sunglasses.

I knew why this creature had seemed familiar. It was not merely the freakish forehead-mouth, but his general appearance; the mouth only confirmed he was not human.

In such situations, I believe in the value of the pre-emptive strike. I shot a glance at the frightened Miss Chakra. "Run!" I commanded, but she remained frozen to the spot.

Women never listen to me when I tell them to run. I don't know why.

Taking hold of the girl, I shoved her backward into the hallway, ignoring her squawk of protest. Then I yanked a rosebud from my hair and swept it toward the not-quite-hippie in a cutting arc. "Rose Whip!"

The rosebud remained a rosebud.

"Bummer." Buckskin Boy laughed. His human-looking mouth did not move, but the wet lipless hole on his brow worked in and out with each bark of mirth. "That jive won't work here. None of your plant crap will."

Not good.

Without my floral weaponry, I am just another young man with some martial arts skills--and a thousand years's experience. "I don't suppose you'll tell me why."

"I don't suppose you noticed that the birds stopped singing when I crashed your little party this afternoon."

"Actually, I--" Never finished the sentence.

The hole on his forehead gaped, and two tentacles shot out, sinuous and muscular like those of a squid, a livid grayish color, as thick around as my wrist, and foul with _youki_.

I dodged, but both tentacles hit me, slamming me back into the staircase, too close to the girl. She screamed. I heard the crack of wood. I hoped it was wood and not my ribs.

Tumbling aside, I managed to dodge his next strike and draw the attacks away from the terrified Miss Chakra.

This was a good thing. The tentacles had a circle of snapping teeth on their ends, like those in the lipless mouth.

I looked around to 'pick me up some difference,' as Shay-san puts it, but the hallway was bare of possible weapons, and the wooden banisters had cracked on my impact, but not enough to wrench one loose for use as a club.

I risked a glance at the girl. She stood frozen against the wall like a deer caught in headlights.

I feinted away from her. "Congratulations," I gasped, dodging another strike that gouged plaster from the wall. "This is the first known instance of underarm stink masking _youki_."

"The funk ain't just for show." This time the demon's strike did not miss; I yelped in pain as the tentacle's teeth tore across my left arm and opened up a gash that ran nearly shoulder to elbow.

"Didn't your mother teach you not to speak with your mouth full?" I countered. The tentacles were fast and infinitely extendible. He didn't even have to move to attack, whereas I was dodging all over the place, and running out of room.

Time for the tables to turn. Those steely tentacles were as effective as my Rose Whip, and the only way to fight a whip is to ignore the damage and run up into the whip-master.

I had to draw his attacks further from the girl. That pass-through between living room and dining room! I could make this demon chase me all around the kitchen, or I might even break free and rouse Hiei. I flicked my gaze at the connecting wall.

"Thinkin' of splitting so soon?" A casual swat of the tentacle caught me under my knees and bowled me over. "If you try to bail, I'll waste the girl."

"Let me guess." Staggering to my feet, my right hand clamped on my arm to stem the bleeding. "Your tactics reek of cowardice. Team Rokuyuki?"

From the hallway came a thready cry: "What is going ON?"

Team Rokuyuki, headed by the late Zeru--our first opponents in the Dark Tournament. We had never seen either bench-warmer Imajin or Gao fight and therefore had no idea of their powers.

My opponent laughed. "So much for Youko Kurama's smarts."

"I'm seldom this wrong." Was now the time to run up on him? "You were perhaps another of the team alternates?"

"Close, but no reefer." His human mouth bared its teeth in an unpleasant imitation smile as the tentacles slammed into the wall on either side of my head. Leaving a hank of hair in each tentacle, I dropped and rolled. Pain from my injured arm blasted my nerves. Slipped a little on my own blood, I not only gained my feet, but a few inches distance. "You look very much like--"

"Imajin," he replied. "My brother."

"I could tell by the yellow streak you share in common."

"Meet the person who's gonna waste you."

I gave him an icy stare. "I assume we're awaiting his arrival?"

"It's me!" he shouted, thumping his chest. "Imaimashii! Your executioner!"

"I've stepped on better things than you." _Imaimashii_: the name could mean provoking, or mortifying, or disgusting.

"Who's bleeding all over the floor and who's sitting here untouched?"

He did have a small point there. "Why target me? Why not Chuu? After all it was Chuu who killed Imajin when he fled the fight--a tactic that must run in your family."

My smart remark earned me a slash to the face.

Yet I had good reason for my insults. He had revealed a weakness. Taunting an opponent like Imaimashii both clouds his mind with rage and causes him to waste precious battle energy on wild strikes, which very often miss.

Regrettably, not now. Blood seeped from both my wounds.

"Chuu?" Imaimashii's red-on-red eyes narrowed. "All in good time, dude. But you witnessed my bro's disgrace."

"It was nothing he didn't bring upon himself."

"Shut up! You're here now, and Chuu ain't."

"I can see why you would be afraid to tackle Chuu. His sort of weaponry doesn't run to plants. And I understand what you want with me, twisted as your logic is. But why the girl?"

He gave me an immeasurably ugly look. "She was convenient."

"Convenient?"

From out in the hall I heard Miss Chakra cry out. _Run_, I begged silently.

Imaimashii was enjoying every minute. "They're a dime a dozen, that kind. So fulla youthful enthusiasm, so eager to set the world right! Ain't it a stone groove?"

Miss Chakra did not heed my advice. She was, in fact, edging into the room. I could hear her clumsy, halting footsteps.

"And the gag is," continued the demon, "my powers suppress elements of the natural world. Not to mention I've got her believing she can't bathe or eat above subsistence level else she'll destroy Mother Earth!"

Close behind me now, the girl gave another soft wail.

I had to distract him. "How courageous of you to weaken a human girl and then deploy her to do your dirty work."

The second tentacle lashed out, cutting me across the forehead. Blood flowed freely, stinging my eyes. I raked a sleeve across them to clear my vision.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" he raged. "And the chick did just like I knew she would. The second I copped to you releasing your _ki_, I figured she'd spot you from upstairs and go running to you: 'Oooo, you're communing with the _flowers!_'"

"And you all safe and snug here in your palace."

"Wasn't exactly sure when you'd show up at that punk demon's house, but it hadda be sooner or later. Felt a little of your _ki_ get it on this morning."

"That's the last pot of chives I'll ever grow."

"That's the last anything you'll ever do," he sniggered.

Miss Chakra gasped, too close now, but I dared not take my eyes off Imaimashii. "Let the girl go."

"What for?" He gave an unpleasant laugh. "She oughta thank me. She was just an exchange student when I picked her up--a pretty little well-groomed nothin' of 18 from some cornfield in the middle of nowhere. Now look at her!"

"You look," I spat. "I'm too busy examining the last of a long line of cowards."

"Who's a coward? That whole tournament scene just ain't my bag--too many rules."

"You must have crawled under the nearest rock just in time to escape. I'll bet Gao was your last-minute substitute."

"Shut up!"

Another tentacle lashed; I dodged, managing to put myself closer to his packing crate. "Is that the best you can come up with?"

Fast as a striking snake, one tentacle shot around my ankle, yanked me off my feet. I landed hard. Miss Chakra, her face pink, teetered forward.

"Stay back!" I warned her, but again she paid me no heed.

The demon looked at her: at her mouth rounded into an 'o' of shock, at her wide, unhappy blue eyes. And he gloated. "You've been a useful little idiot in your way, but time's up."

"You--!" Miss Chakra's demeanor changed at once, and again I caught a glimpse of the person she used to be. Her slender little fists clenched. "What the hell did you do to me, you scheming--! Say it again! I dare you!"

"What a bore when you get all uptight." The demon flung a third tentacle from that 'mouth,' slammed it against the girl's chest, knocked her back into the sagging chair. She went silent and limp as a rag doll.

But she had bought me a second's worth of time. And while he was reeling the third tentacle in--

--scrambling to my feet, I charged--too late!

"I saw that comin' a mile off!" He gave a shriek of malevolent triumph and flung the tentacle back at me. All three came on, like contrails of death. I dodged, was nearly upon him, reached for his eyes.

A tentacle tore my arms aside, pinned them. Another snaked round my neck, teeth snapping at my jugular. Another wrapped up my legs. Still I thrashed about, seeking an opening.

Our struggles knocked the lamp over. It spun in lazy circles on the wooden floor, its light swirling like the cherry atop a police cruiser. But there were no police around.

He had me, and knew it. Pressure crushed my throat. Each heartbeat brought a dizzying throb ..._Losing consciousness..._

"Now these odds I can really dig." His laughter was already fading against the roar of my own labored pulse. "So much for your miserable life." The tentacle around my throat tightened further. I could not tear it loose.

_Girl_, I thought dimly, _Have to save the girl_. He would find no further use for her once this was finished.

Imaimashii's voice grew distant, then washed away altogether.

Sometimes, the battle comes down to nothing more than hanging on to the next breath. Stars appeared as silver salt upon the black veil that dropped over my sight. I did not have time to count them.

(To be continued: Will Kurama lose more than just the fight?)

-30-


	4. P,L, H C4: Once Upon A Hiei

Please read Disclaimer in Chapter One.

The events in _Idiot Beloved_ take place shortly after the Dark Tournament; _Firebird Sweet_ directly follows that timeline. I strongly suggest you read those fics in order, THEN take a look at the sidefics!

Title: Peace, Love, Hiei C4: Once Upon A Hiei

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor

Rating: T

Summary: His powers muted, Kurama battles on.

A/N: Kitajima Maya, Kurama's classmate, was introduced in the YYH manga Volume 7 extra, Two Shots, the story of Kurama's first meeting with Hiei. As always, thanks for reading this, and I appreciate your reviews! Character sketches up on my LiveJournal.

Cold-blooded murder, Team Rokuyukai-style

Peace, Love, Hiei (C4: Once Upon A Hiei)

by

Kenshin

"Maya! Run!"

A late afternoon in October, with the weather nearly as warm as June. I had been walking home from middle school in the company of my classmate Kitajima Maya, when I sensed Hiei's bloodlust. Perhaps it was only that which saved me: Hiei was fast, and formidable, and flew at us like a bat out of hell.

His crimson eyes alight with rage, Hiei struck, mistakenly believing (as I later learned) that I was in league with the demon Yatsude, whom he suspected of kidnaping his sister, Yukina.

Snatching Maya from the path of Hiei's sword, I put her safely down and faced him in battle, hoping to draw him away from the helpless girl...

An afternoon in October, almost as warm as June. The past, sepia-tinted, washing over me in a syrupy veil...

Maya. Hiei.

Someone screamed.

Imaimashii's grating laughter rang in my ears, a counterpoint to the hollow boom of my own heart. I shook off my deadly lassitude and fought back in earnest, grappling with the tentacle that was choking me. Beneath my squeezing fingers it felt not slimy, but dry, leathery, reptilian, snakish; I could at least get a grip on it. I struggled to free my neck, but it was about as effective as trying to saw through a steel cable with a marshmallow, and my strength was fading fast from lack of oxygen.

Seated on his packing crate like the last of the pashas, Imaimashii gave a sneer of triumph. The tentacle imprisoning my ankles let go to wrap my ribcage, crushing out the rest of my breath, threatening to crack my bones.

My vision blurred, dimmed. Sparks danced at the edges of my sight. Once more, I thought of Maya.

Kitajima Maya!

I slid to my knees. "Run," I choked out.

Perhaps Miss Chakra reminded me of my old schoolmate--the same degree of innocence and enthusiasm as Maya. Maya, who had revealed to me her burgeoning sixth sense, whose capture by Yatsude caused me to join forces with Hiei to set her free.

And perhaps Imaimashii was not as formidable as Yatsude. Perhaps I was stronger now than I had been at 14--but the demon in front of me had effectively suppressed my powers.

Miss Chakra screamed again. Imaimashii snarled, "Shut up!"

_Thinking about Maya? Life flashing before my eyes? Can't die like this, can't leave Miss Chakra to the mercies of this monster--_

My thoughts were scattered by a rush of air. The thump of a surprisingly heavy body landing in front of me: Hiei, katana at the ready. The beautiful ringing sound of sword against flesh. The equally beautiful sound of Imaimashii hollering in pain.

The tentacle at my throat quivered, then fell. The other tentacles dropped me like a hot potato.

Bleeding and gasping and coughing, I rolled away from the demon. Imajin's brother was bleeding, too, in pale ichorous gouts from the severed tentacle.

The girl wailed.

Imaimashii sat as though stunned, one bloodied stump of a tentacle protruding from that grotesque mouth like an afterthought, the other two disappearing as he reeled them in.

Hiei stood between me and the hippie-monster, pale blood dripping from the tip of his sword. "Couldn't sleep." He slanted me an amused, almost insolent look. "Your _ki_ was making an awful racket. Hope you don't mind me crashing the party."

_Glad to see you, Hiei_, I thought. "It's not my party," I rasped, "but I'm sure there's room for another celebrant."

"Uncool, dude," whined Imaimashii, retracting the severed stump too. Now all he had was that bizarre mouth to show. "Uncool." He eyed Hiei nervously; Hiei's power, unlike mine, is not plant-based. And even without his particular powers, Hiei is an expert swordsman.

As if reading my mind, Hiei inquired, "Who's up for tako yaki?"

With a bellow of outrage, Imaimashii spewed his tentacles again, hammering Hiei with a one-two strike.

"The only substitute for good manners is fast reflexes." Hiei easily dodged the blows, shoving me further out of the way. I sprawled near the girl who sprawled in her armchair. She gave a startled squeak, whether I had accidentally hurt her, or the sight of Hiei fending off Imaimashii's armament was more than she could bear. In either case, she was shaking so much that the chair rattled.

Clearly uneasy, Imaimashii paused in his attacks.

"Why no Rose Whip?" Hiei wanted to know.

My voice was recovering. "Tell you later," I advised, still from the floor. I could see Imaimashii's red-on-red eyeballs rotating in their sockets as he assessed Hiei's battle-readiness. "There are two of us now, and he's re-thinking things. He doesn't like those kinds of odds, unless one of us is a girl."

"I'm not a girl." Hiei shrugged. "Are you a girl?"

I disdained a reply. "I'm a g-g-g--" Miss Chakra began.

And then Imaimashii disgorged his tentacles, flicking them around the room like lightning, seeking Hiei, smashing and gouging at ceiling and walls, causing a shower of plaster and lath to sift down. Hiei was just that one shade faster.

Imaimashii struck at every corner of the room and then some. Hiei's katana answered like silver flame.

Far too many of Imaimashii's blows came far too close to the girl, helpless in her sagging armchair--

Without my plant arsenal, the best I could do was shield her with my body, while trying not to inhale too deeply.

And then the front door opened, and someone else was in the house with us.

"Do please excuse my tardiness." At the sound of Shay-san's voice, I craned my neck, to see her framed in the archway of the living room. Clad in gray sweat pants, she also wore an oversized hooded top that made her look small and frail. Yet her face in the dim light told another story, and her eyes held that glint of gold they reflected only when she meant business.

Born with an ability to persuade others with her voice, Shayla Kidd had studied hard to develop that skill, until our Spellcaster, while no martial artist, plays a small but well-defined role in our battles.

"Imaimashii." I nodded toward the hippie-coated demon. "His brother fought in the Dark Tournament." That was all the background she needed.

Hiei and the demon were in the full heat of battle, bouncing off the walls at speeds almost too fast for my eyes to follow.

"Thanks," she said, and I could sense the whiplash edge to her voice even before she unleashed it.

"Freeze!" she snarled.

Hiei dropped to the floor in a perfect three-point landing. Both the demon's lamprey mouth and his human-looking one gaped in shock, one tentacle limp like a power cable, the teeth of another buried in the ceiling. And I was stuck, equally unable to move, shielding the equally-frozen Miss Chakra.

"Crap," muttered Hiei. "This is no fun at all."

_Amen_, I thought, still trying not to breathe too deeply of Miss Chakra's personality.

"Fine." With one word, she rescinded her Command. "You may move now. Have at it."

I shifted, still unwilling to leave Miss Chakra open to further attack. "Why not just keep Imaimashii from moving at all?" I wondered.

"Hiei's more than a little miffed because I wouldn't let him kill any hippies before now," Shay-san replied, adding, with a trace of scorn, "Besides, how much do you think he would enjoy dismantling a helpless foe?"

Imaimashii un-stuck his tentacle from the ceiling and slashed at Hiei. "I take back what I said about you never letting me have any fun." Hiei beamed. "Can we agree that this constitutes a clear and present danger?"

Shay-san folded her arms. "Knock yourself out."

Snarling, Imaimashii tumbled from the packing crate an eyeblink before Hiei smashed it to bits. He then shot to his feet, turned tail, and ran--not unlike his brother Imajin.

"Your opponent is me," said Hiei, "not the back door."

Imaimashii froze, just as if Shay-san herself had issued a Command. "Hey, man." His shoulders hunched in defeat, the hippie-demon lowered his head, then slowly turned, raising his hands in a universal gesture of surrender. "You dudes got me outnumbered."

I let out a sigh of relief, concurrent with Hiei's sigh of regret, then rose, wincing at the pain in my wounded arm. Hiei and I went to check the girl.

From his spot near the pass-through, Imaimashii watched, both hands clamped atop his head. Shay-san edged further into the living room. And from the musty old armchair, Miss Chakra stared and did nothing else.

Standing shoulder to shoulder, Hiei and I regarded her. "I don't think much of your girlfriend," said Hiei.

"She's not my girlfriend," I sighed.

Hiei jerked his head at Imaimashii. "His?" The hippie demon manufactured a conciliatory grin. I shrugged. "He was just using her."

Hiei rolled his eyes. "What a surprise."

"It was to her."

Imaimashii's grin widened into a leer.

"I really don't like his face," Hiei complained. "Can't you tie him up with a Thrashvine?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Go on. Rub it in."

"No, seriously." Leaning on his katana, Hiei gave me an astounded look. "You can't secure him?"

"If I could, do you think you would have found _me_ tied like a pork roast?"

"I don't know. I thought maybe you were playing with your food again."

"I believe I'll not dignify that with a response."

"She got any sixth sense?" Hiei flicked a glance at Miss Chakra, who was still busy goggling at nothing. "Doesn't look like she's got much sense of any sort."

"I think she lacks the ability to detect _youki_."

Hiei folded his arms. "Brilliant deduction."

"Well, she doesn't know what I am." I allowed a half-smile to crimp my lips. "And she doesn't know what you are either."

Hiei lifted an eyebrow that said _Oh?_ "And that would be..?"

In a way, I had been waiting for this since the afternoon. With a mixture of genuine affection and exasperation, I told Hiei what he was, as he had told me earlier, steeping my description in all four strata of insult: ancestry, character, intelligence, and virility, while adding an extra layer involving temperament.

I heard Shay-san gasp in sheer disbelief at my audacity, while the sight of Hiei, temporarily silenced in shock, was reward enough.

When Hiei finally racheted his jaw back into place, his voice held notes of challenge and admiration both. "Say that to me again," he demanded.

And while we were caught up in our little game, Imaimashii spun, leapt, and attacked.

Using the stump as a club, he bowled me over, trying simultaneously with the other two tentacles to tear the sword from Hiei's grip while stabbing at Shay-san and Miss Chakra.

This time, it was Shay-san who screamed.

Hiei moved, too fast for my eyes to follow. To his credit, Imaimashii put up one last stand, concentrating his attacks on Hiei, but Hiei's sword was more than equal to the task of two tentacles plus a stump.

All we saw was a flicker of light. The demon could do nothing to stop it. For a moment he stood frozen in shock.

Then he fell to pieces. Literally. The hunks hit the floor with a wet, sticky _thok_.

"Finally." Hiei's eyes gleamed in wicked mirth. "I get to kill a hippie."

"And you weren't even properly introduced," I said.

"You've killed one, you've killed 'em all." Sheathing his sword, Hiei sauntered over and hauled me to my feet.

Maybe Hiei really didn't precipitate that attack by pretending to ignore the demon. But paperwork concerning a live perpetrator is so much more tedious than on a dead one.

Together we peered at the girl.

Miss Chakra was shivering in the chair, her cornflower-blue eyes staring behind their glasses. Her pale skin felt clammy, and her teeth clacked together like castanets. "Shock," I summarized, glancing around the debris for a blanket to warm her, but there was nothing clean enough to use. "I don't think she was injured. She should be all right in a bit."

Hiei nodded. "But there's the troublesome fact that she saw the battle. Maybe you ought to use that Dreamflower pollen on her," he suggested. "After you stop your own bleeding."

"Who's bleeding?" I scoffed. The scratch on my face was nothing. It was true, I related to them, that while scalp wounds bleed freely, they are usually not serious.

Shuddering, Shay-san added, "Your sliced-open arm, though, that's another story."

However, with Imaimashii dead and my powers returning, my wounds were soon tended. We once again gave our attention to the girl. This time, I hoped, there would be no further interruptions.

Even though my diminutive sister-become had only a few years on Miss Chakra, she slid into the Mommy role with ease, smoothing back the girl's tangled hair. "It's okay, Sweetie," she murmured. "You're safe now."

Miss Chakra came 'to' then, her eyes rolling wildly around. She clutched at Shay-san's arms. "T-tentacles," she chattered, "S-swords."

"All gone," Shay-san reassured her.

"W-what--just happened?" Miss Chakra gaped at each of us in turn. "Am I hallucinating? D-did he give me drugs? Those things that came shooting out of his head--"

"No, Sweetie." Shay-san glanced at me; I nodded, for her Spellcasting could handle Miss Chakra's memories as well as I could with Dreamflower pollen. "Miss Rainbow Chakra Freedom," she crooned, "Listen to me."

"M-my real name's Emily."

"You were having a dream, Emily," Shay-san continued. "A bad dream. In fact that bastard Imaimashii was lying to you about the environment. He actually manufactures rat poison and puts it in lollipops. Go back to sleep now."

Miss Chakra sighed and closed her eyes, convinced by the Spellcaster that she was indeed asleep and dreaming. Judging by the blissful look on her face, the dream included mountains of ambrosia.

Speaking of food--

I gazed unhappily at the chunks of Imaimashii. He had gone to pieces, true, but that still made quite a pile to wrangle. "Friends help you move." I turned to Hiei and Shay-san. "Good friends help you move bodies."

"You are so behind the times," admonished Hiei. Standing over the dead demon, he summoned his fire and, as casually as though he were starring in a backyard cookout, hosed down the remains with a sheet of gold flame. Shay-san joined us to watch the pyrotechnics.

The demon gave off a thick, yellowish smoke that smelled of old gym socks. In a couple of minutes, there was nothing left of him but a pile of flaky ochre ash.

The girl slept on. "Hiei--" Shay-san turned to him with shimmering eyes, hands clasped together, her voice quavering with fervent emotion. "Can I keep her?"

When she got that way, Shay-san was hard to resist--but Hiei had no trouble doing so.

"No." He was adamant. "You can't adopt a smelly hippie."

"You never let me have any fun!" She turned to me, all sullen indignation. "He never lets me have any fun."

"In this case," I said, "I happen to agree with Hiei. You can't simply go around stealing little girls--especially ones whose family is by now probably frantic to hear from her," I concluded, throwing grammatical structure out the window.

"Leave me to sulk in peace," muttered Shay-san.

"She really does need to return to her family in the States," I added gently. "I'm sure they're worried sick."

That got to her as Hiei's insults would not. "Oh, all right. So now she believes she had a bad dream, and that the hippie makes poison lollipops. But what do we tell her about _this_?" Shay-san indicated the state of the living room.

Hiei snorted. "Will she even notice?"

I gave him a withering glance. "Were you born this way or do you have to practice?"

"You hurt my one remaining feeling," he sniffed.

"Poor kid." Our Spellcaster knelt at Miss Chakra's feet again, taking off her own jacket to settle it around the girl's shoulders. "She's okay, though. Apart from the smell."

"Can't you do something about that?" I begged. "Anything?"

"What do you take me for?" Rising, Shay-san dusted off her shirt. "Both of you, get back."

We scuttled to obey.

"Poor little useful idiot in front of me," Commanded Shay-san, "that low-life Imaimashii also went on a bender, tore up the living room, then ran out on you and stuck you with the rent. In the morning, you will phone your Mom and Dad and have them wire you plane fare home."

Shay-san glanced up at me. I raised my eyebrows, and she turned back to the girl. "In the meantime, why don't you go take a nice, long, relaxing, hot, and extremely soapy bath?"

"What a good idea," I said.

"At _my_ house," Shay-san concluded.

"Nuts," muttered Hiei.

0-0-0-0-0

After staying with Hiei and Shay-san for a couple of days, getting to meet the twins, and eating real food again, poor Miss Rainbow Chakra Freedom (AKA Emily Jane Johansen), went back to her grateful family, presumably to continue making the world safe for the lost and unkempt. Or perhaps any lingering effects of Imaimashii's power over her would wear off in the haven of her true home.

Hiei and Shay-san erected a concrete barrier similar to those fronting the other homes in the neighborhood. Good fences make good neighbors.

The house across the street soon rented out to a young family of four. Every now and then, their kids come over to play with Michael and CeeCee. I always give the little girl a bouquet of flowers to take back to her mother.

They bathe, all of them.

-30-

(This concludes _Peace, Love, Hiei_. Tako yaki, for those interested, is made from octopus. Please stay tuned for more fics, whether it's the continuation of _Death By Hiei_, _Operation Rosary_, or something completely different.)


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